Are Poets Crazy?

[PiP]

Okay, clickbait... we are not crazy... just checking if anyone was paying attention.

When you write poetry do you zone out into a trance-like state or can you still hold a coherent conversation?

I ask because my husband swears that while I'm writing, despite responding with the occasional grunt to a question, I am there in body but not in mind. It's almost as if the mind moves to a different state of consciousness so while I register the conversation as 'white noise', and I obviously grunt in the right places, I do not absorb the content into the memory banks.

[astroannie]

I can only hold incoherent conversations because I know more than the other person(s) involved and the only topic I can communicate about is my WIP while I'm in the zone.

It's not that I'm not there--it's that I'm preoccupied. So I'll count out loud or say "axe rhymes with tax" or question my unfortunate conversant about whether tchotchke is understood.

Similar to my husband working on a Project ("I'll solder this one first and then I'll wire that ... where did that capacitor get to?").

[Robbie]

When I write, hours pass like minutes. I am so fully engaged in writing that 6,7,8 hours go by without my notice. It feels like maybe twenty minutes and I look up and the day is gone. I like when it happens that way. I suppose it is a trance because I am aware of nothing else. When I have distractions or have to break up my writing time, I feel frustrated and stifled. I need to be completely alone. Am I the only one who needs solitude to write?

[JustRob]

What's poetry got to do with it? My angel reckons that I'm like that all the time. There is only a very slim chance that poetry will result from it. I just happen to be an asynchronous thinker.

[PiP]

It's not that I'm not there--it's that I'm preoccupied. So I'll count out loud or say "axe rhymes with tax"

Counting meter is lethal! I tap my desk as I read the poem out loud, and then mutter.

[astroannie]

Oh, not with numbers ... on my fingers...DA-da-da/DA-da-da or DA-da/DA-da/DA-da etc.

[PiP]

When I write, hours pass like minutes. I am so fully engaged in writing that 6,7,8 hours go by without my notice. It feels like maybe twenty minutes and I look up and the day is gone. I like when it happens that way. I suppose it is a trance because I am aware of nothing else.

Yes, hours do pass like minutes...

When I have distractions or have to break up my writing time, I feel frustrated and stifled. I need to be completely alone. Am I the only one who needs solitude to write?

I also need solitude when I write. I either shut myself away in my office, make myself comfortable on the garden swing chair, or go to the beach. I need to be alone otherwise I can't focus.

I don't understand people who can listen to wild rock music while they are writing.

[midnightpoet]

Solitude is best, but not always possible. I do "zone out," which drives my wife crazy. I used to be able to write with distractions, and was known to watch TV, listen to music (think soft classical) and read at the same time. Not any more. Are poets crazy? Depends on your definition of crazy. We just march to the tune of a different drummer (excuse the cliché). And each drummer taps a different tune.

[Darren White]

I have three states of mind, while preparing to write poetry:

1. Stage one. I am extremely alert, not only to all conversations around me, but also to random sound an noise, paintings, music, dance, everything that can bring me inspiration;
2. Stage two is gathering the necessary means, thesaurus, encyclopedia of poetry and poetics, assorted books of assorted poets, translation material;
3. Stage three is being there physically, but in a trance, where I exclude everything including the need to drink and eat.

All three stages are familiar to my sister and her family, a sort of 'uh oh....', and they know they better leave me alone.

[Darkkin]

My headphones go in, my music goes up and I disappear into the back of my head. Hyperfocus mode. And the thing about it is, I can turn it on at will. If a wild hare idea triggers it, then there is no telling how long I can be under. Most of the time, however, I am cognizent of the time. (A huge part of my writing is done during my breaks at work or when they run my apheresis. My tablet and bluetooth keyboard are in my bag at all times to it is habit and recourse to just pull them out when I have a few minutes. If I'm working on a critique or a technical piece, then I will plop myself at my table and click on the hyperfocus.

Other times I bounce the bejesus out of my giant yoga ball to help my find the rhythm and touchpoint rhymes. There are moments when I would swear I can feel the neurons in the back of my brain igniting, (which is a total bunch of whooy since the brain has no touch receptors...). But there is a hum on a visceral level that can leave me breathless from an endorphine high. While some people resort to drugs or alcohol for a distracting rush, I write.

While other folks clamly stroll along a path they don't even realize is an Einstein-Rosen Bridge, I am chasing quazars.